Love and War
by Kyuseisha no Hikari
Summary: In a time of war, the unthinkable happens...two lost souls are reunited. Together again for the first time in more than a decade, Dark Mousy will make a startling discovery about the one person he has sworn to kill...the one person he has sworn to love.
1. Chapter 1

_**Love and War**_

--

_In a time of war, the unthinkable happens…two lost souls are reunited. Together again for the first time in more than a decade, Dark Mousy will make a startling discovery about the one person he has sworn to kill...the one person he has sworn to love._

_--_

_Chapter 1_

--

Carnage swept the land, dead bodies littering the cold, bloody grass. There must have been hundreds upon hundreds of men that lay dead after that battle…yet two still stood—their swords clashing violently against the one another's.

"Why—won't—you—just—die?" The violet haired one hissed, each word emphasized with a violent thrust towards the blonde.

"Speak for yourself," The other growled, either parrying or dodging the elegant weapon.

Dark ignored the blonde, his attack growing forcer with each missed opportunity to strike his opponent—everyone knew not his name, simply his title as: He who personally caused enough bloodshed to wreak havoc for centuries to come.

The blonde, on the other hand, was not faring so well. He had been the one to lead head first into the battle—the first to slaughter, the first to take a blow. Small nicks marked his now tattered armor, and blood flowing freely from several wounds. His arm ached to the point where he could barely hold his sword and his helmed head had a pounding to match it.

Cursing lightly, he switched the weapon into his left hand, gripping his bloody blade awkwardly as he continued to deflect the other's blows.

Dark also switched tactics, now, realizing that the blonde was able to parry with great ease his simple thrusts, and let out a grunt of exertion as he raised the sword and brought it down heavily upon the others left shoulder.

The blonde let out a pained sort of scream, and stumbled backwards as the sword fell limply from his twitching hand.

"What did you—?" he managed to hiss, stepping over a corpse as he backed away from his still armed opponent.

"Pressure point," Dark said simply, lunging once again.

The blonde, not so nimbly, leapt out of the way as Dark flew past him, the amethyst haired male nearly stumbling over one of his comrade's corpses in his rage.

The helmed one took this brief opening, and managed to yank free from one of his own army's cold, dead fingers a sharply pointed shaft—adorned at the top with a flag representing his country.

Turning on his heels in one swift motion, he threw the wooden spike towards his oncoming opponent and watched in rapt concern as the violet haired male's eyes widened.

Swiftly, with agility unparalleled, the other ducked and just barely missed having his fine face impaled. Still, though, all grace abandoned him when he slipped in a sleek puddle of blood so wickedly staining the ground beneath him.

"_Shit_!" He cursed loudly, stumbling to regain himself. He fell to the ground roughly, his sword flying through the air.

The blonde took this opportunity to filch the sword from midair, arming himself once again. Still, with his muscles so weak, the tip of the weapon seemed to sag to the ground, the tip touching the grass.

Each panted heavily, and eventually Dark managed to gather himself. He fumbled for a weapon to arm himself with once again, and smirked when he felt the touch of steel grace his fingertips.

Snatching it up quickly, he clamored up to his feet and waved the sword menacingly in front of his opponents face. Of course, Dark had almost no idea what the male inside looked like—the great helm donning his head concealing everything but strange, golden eyes.

Familiar, strange golden eyes…

Dark raised his sword, feeling his energy ebb away quickly, now, his adrenaline dismissing itself too quickly for his own pleasure, and swung down with a mighty blow that left the blonde shred in two.

Well…it would have if he had hit him. Instead, Dark felt a horrible, massive explosion of pain emitting from his right side in that split second that he should have smitten the blonde. What's worse is that he heard the crack first.

Dark fell to the floor, agonizing cries poisoning the air, as he gasped, cried out for breath. Turning, the excruciating pain strengthening, he saw his attacker.

A great white beast—a horse with vivid, glaring eyes snorting…pawing at the ground as if about to charge at him.

The great animal's forehead was streaking red blood—and Dark knew that the animal had head-butted him. But why?

His opponent let out a dry whistle, and the beast turned to him, trotting over to his master. The blonde—his hair soaking wetly in a bloody ponytail down his back, placed a gloved hand on the horse's saddle. Coughing lightly, he ushered for the horse to move foreward—slowly, though—it being the only thing holding him up, now.

Dark grimaced, the numbness receding greatly from its former self, and forced himself up. He let out a silent cry, dragging his sword with him. The blonde hadn't seemed to notice—either that or there was nothing he could do, anyway, and Dark—in one horrid motion—slashed his sword against the back of the horse's hind legs.

The steed let out a whiny of pain and surprise, and crumpled to the floor in one foul motion—dragging with him the blonde.

Luckily for him, though, the horse collapsed farther away from him, sparing him the horrid crushing he would have otherwise received.

Dark grinned wickedly. Finally…_finally_ this menace would pay the price for his sins—for killing all those innocents during the war.

Fighting back the pain he caused himself with each step he took, Dark towered over the figure who lay as lifeless as a child's doll.

Reaching down with stiff fingers with one hand to remove the helm—positioning the sword he gripped in his right hand at the neck of the other—he began to pull the heavy iron away.

Slowly, milky flesh was revealed, and giving the masking object a final tug, Dark's breath caught in his chest when the face of an ashen male looked up helplessly at him.

"…_Krad_?"

The blonde's eye lids narrowed from weariness, and then his golden eyes rolled into the back of their sockets.

--

_Oh…sorry. It would seem that I've started another story, eh? I really do hope you don't mind. I think I'm rather fond of this story…and would love any constructive criticism you have to offer. I also wanted to apologize for the very small amount of dialogue in this chapter—it was mainly me trying my hand off with action scenes…_

_Blah…well, in any case—I do hope you enjoyed it!_


	2. Chapter 2

**Love and War**

--

In a time of war, the unthinkable happens...two lost souls are reunited. Together again for the first time in more than a decade, Dark Mousy will make a startling discovery about the one person he has sworn to kill...the one person he has sworn to love.

_--_

_Chapter 2_

--

The sky had grown darker in the past moment, it seemed. Light flashed across the sky and thunder crackled in the distance. Dark didn't notice; he couldn't move his gaze from the figure beneath him.

His heart pounding in his ears, he drew in a quick breath. Finally tearing his eyes from the limp blonde, he scanned the area quickly. Unable to stop himself, he stumbled backwards.

"No—how can this…Krad? But he…why would he be fighting against his own country? His family—friends—_me_? There…there must be some mistake," Dark spat, his mind spinning and his heart pounding. No one moved on the battlefield; as far as Dark could see were corpses. "Krad wouldn't—_couldn't_—!"

His throat closed, and Dark swallowed, panting for air. He flopped down onto the cold, mud-covered ground. His view slowly drifted back to the male before him. He noticed a glint of gold.

Slowly, Dark forced himself to crawl next to the blonde. He reached out a shaky glove to pick up a battered, golden cross tied at the end of the other's long ponytail.

He dropped is as if it had burned right through his glove and scorched his calloused hand.

It was Krad. _This_ was Krad.

Only _he_ had that long blonde hair…those fierce, feral eyes…_that_ cross.

"Oh, God…" Dark whispered, shaking his head slowly. Tears lightly brimmed his eyes. "Oh, _God_…"

--

Dark stumbled into the inn clumsily, calling out, "Get me the doctor and a room. _Immediately_."

A few locals ran out the door, eager to help one of the king's soldiers. A girl in her early teens approached Dark, flipping her long, chocolate hair as she gave him a room key. "First door on the right," she said, tossing a curious glance at the bundled figure wrapped in Dark's arms.

Dark paid the girl no mind, giving only a curt nod before dashing to the room.

He unlocked the door with ease, shuffling inside. He slammed the door behind him before clumsily making his way towards the bed in the room. He gently lowered the blonde from his arms onto the bed, grateful that the sharp angles on the other's vibrant black armor were no longer piercing into him.

He drew in a long breath before quickly setting to work, removing the armor from the blonde at an amazing speed. He knew if anyone recognized that armor, both he and Krad would be killed on the spot.

After a tedious amount of unlatching, unbuckling, unclasping, and so forth, all the armor was discarded in a heap on the floor. Dark threw his cloak atop it to veil it from sight not a moment too soon; the black cloak was still settling when an elderly man rushed in the room.

"What's the injury? Why did you call?" He asked hastily in a crippled voice. He adjusted the glasses on his tiny nose and leaned towards the bloody male.

"Him. My troops and I fought on the borderline of this town just earlier today. He and I…are the only ones that survived." A look of agony washed over Dark's features. "My captains—my friends…my subordinates…and all the enemy troops were annihilated in the attack."

A look of contemplation washed over the old man's face. "I'm sorry to hear that," he said as he made his way to Krad's bedside.

"Do you mind if I…?"

Dark shrugged when the old man gestured to the blonde. "Do whatever you can. Please."

With fingers too nimble to belong to such an old man, the doctor quickly plucked at the buttons on the blonde's bloody shirt and discarded the article quickly. He stared at the many fresh cut and bruises painted onto the blonde's pale flesh and shook his head. "He's taken a lot of damage," he grumbled. From his bag, the old man drew out a few tools and a large roll of cotton bandages. A bottle of ointment was elicited when he said, "I've seen men die from less. How many were you fighting?"

Dark leaned back against the wall, drawing in a tight breath. "There were three of them to one of us."

Dabbing at one of Krad's gashes, the old man grimaced. "You look like you've got yourself injured as well. I've got my apprentice outside. As soon as she gets back with the cool water, she'd be more than happy to tend to you while I'm at this one…"

Dark shrugged. "Sir," he said, "He _will_ live through this, right…?"

"Like I said: I've seen men die from less, but he seems to be holding out pretty well. I think he'll make it."

The dark haired male paused for a long moment in front of the doorway before sighing. The doctor had moved away from the bruises and was examining a dislocated shoulder. A chill shiver swept down Dark's spine and he crept out of the room, closing the door behind him.

--

It was a good number of hours before the doctor came out of the tiny room, rubbing his sore hands together. He shuffled through the living room and said to Dark when the youth rose eagerly from his seat to meet him, "Your friend…"

"Yes, what of him?" Dark asked impatiently when the doctor fell silent.

"He should be fine in a few days time. He and you both—from what my assistant has told me—have taken quite a beating."

Dark gave a small bow, ignoring the constriction around his upper torso. A few bandages and a couple of aches, but he was fine. "What do I owe you?"

The old man smiled a charming smile. "Nothing. I'm sure if you hadn't stopped those damnable troops before they reached town…well, let's just say that I'm still in your debt."

"No…but thank you, anyway."

"It isn't a problem. You should get some rest, young man. I'll come back tomorrow and check on both of you, so make sure you stay here. I'm not in the mood to go looking for you for a check-up…"

"Yes, sir," Dark said. "Goodnight."

The doctor nodded, hobbling out of the inn. Dark watched him depart, staring at the door for a long moment before he tore his gaze away and moved across the common room. He paused in front of the door to his room and reached out a hand to gently open it. He entered silently, biting his lip as he slipped into the darkness.

Krad lay, pale and still, underneath the thin sheets atop the bed. Had Dark not carefully been watching the blonde's chest slowly rise and fall, he might have mistaken him for a corpse. His eyes drifted to the blonde's blood-caked hair, the crimson splotches contrasting strongly against his flaxen demeanor, and then to his thin face—eyes running slowly over his closed eyelids, his delicate nose, his lush lips…

Dark tore his gaze away, running his fingers through his wild violet bangs as he mentally scolded himself. 'God,' he spat it his mind, 'I can't think about _that_ right now…there are too many questions unanswered…'

Shoulders slumping, Dark let out a weary groan as he quietly drifted to a chair in the corner of the room and dragged it in front of the door before sinking into it. He reached behind him and locked the door, confident that no one was getting in…and no one was getting out.

--

Thunder rattled the inn, jolting Dark awake. He looked around quickly, seeing only darkness. The candle once illuminating the room must have burned out long ago, for the only light was that of the lightning flashing outside.

Silence resumed, and Dark paused, feeling something was wrong. He didn't move, listening for any abnormal noises. There were none. He released a breath only to draw it back in again—lightning flashed through the window to reveal an empty bed.

"Krad?" Dark called, moving to sit up.

There was a warm breath on his ear, and a hand pushed him back down into this chair. "Right here," came a familiar voice. Cold metal suddenly pressed against Dark's throat, nearly choking him. "Where am I?" Came the icy whisper.

Dark coughed. "Krad, hold on—"

"And how do you know my name?" The knife, Dark assumed, was pressed deeper into his flesh.

"Get that thing out of my throat and I'll _tell_ you," Dark hissed. He felt the metal slowly draw away from his throat.

"…Fine."

"Get on the bed, first."

Confusion nearly surfaced itself as Krad returned, "What?"

Dark grit his teeth. "Go lay down—conserve your strength. You almost _died_ today, so don't chance anything."

Krad let out a quiet hiss, "How do I know you won't attack me?"

"Because I _brought_ you here in the first place. Now, _go_."

The blonde frowned, clearly in thought, for a moment before slowly retreating to the bed and taking a seat. He was in no condition to protest and he knew it—just sneaking over next to Dark had drained most of the energy he _had_, anyway.

Dark leaned forward. "Good, now you're answering _my_ questions, first. What the _hell_ are you doing?"

"Clarify."

"Clarify? Clarify what?"

Irritance crept into the blonde's voice as he said, "I'm breathing, hurting, sitting here—"

"That's _not_ what I meant."

"Then _clarify_ what it was you _did_ mean."

Dark drew in a breath. "Why was I fighting _you_?"

The blonde shrugged, regretting the action as searing pain tore through his arm. His expression never changed when he said, "Because _I_ was trying to kill you?"

"_That's_ not what I meant, either! Why were you fighting against Azumano's troops?"

"Because that's what my lord assigned me to do."

Rage blasted through the dark haired warrior, and he fought for control to keep himself from screaming at the blonde who stared coolly at him. "Okay," Dark said, calming himself, " I know who you are. Do you know who I am?"

"Dark," Krad said, and Dark's heart stopped. Again, when the blonde added, "It's dark in here. I can't see anything. What do you think?"

"So…" Dark asked, a little hurt and confused, "Your cross…"

"The gold one I wear?"

"That one. Where did you get it?"

Lightning illuminated the blonde's shocked features. "Where is it?" Krad asked, unable to suppress the longing in his voice.

"Why? Is it important to you?"

Krad hesitated before giving an answer. "Yes. It is. It's very important to me."

Dark nodded, hiding a smile. "Why?"

"_That's_ none of your business. Where is it?"

"Answer the rest of my questions, and I'll give it back."

"You're cheap…and low," the blonde said, glaring at him in the darkness.

"But you'll answer?"

Krad nodded.

"First, I want to know why you, Krad Hikari, have joined with the king. You _used_ to hate him. Why are you with him? Why did you leave in the middle of the night without so much as a goodbye?"

Dark took pleasure when Krad's golden eyes widened. "How did you…?"

A smirk was supplied from the violet haired male. He rose from his chair and away from the shadows that veiled him even from the shocking blasts of lightning. He moved into the center of the room, and said when the lightning illuminated his face, "Because I was the one you left. That's how I know."

--

Whoo! Like I said, this was supposed to be a one shot, but now, all of a sudden, there's another chapter? Blame Genkai. I would never have updated if she hadn't been so mad at me for telling her this was a one-shot. I wrote this well over a year ago, when she first requested it, though it has been quite some time since I last saw the pages I'd written the next chapter on. And then…voila! They pop up out of nowhere, during my updating spree. What a coincidence…

_Anyway, have fun reading. Please leave a review, if you can, because I'd love to get feedback from my readers._


	3. Chapter 3

_**Love and War**_

--

_In a time of war, the unthinkable happens…two lost souls are reunited. Together again for the first time in more than a decade, Dark Mousy will make a startling discovery about the one person he has sworn to kill...the one person he has sworn to love._

_--_

_Chapter 3_

--

There was an awkward sort of silence for the moment after Dark's claim, and then, just as fleeting as a flash of lightning, Krad had lurched forward and tackled the male. Weak as he may be, he still had fight left in him, and apparently it was his idea to go down fighting. His fist slammed into the left side of Dark's face as they simultaneously collided with the hard wood floor.

"Hey!" Dark yelped, pain swelling from the blow; he received another surge of pain when Krad elbowed his chest. "Hey, what the _Hell_ are you—?"

"Shut up!" Krad hissed; he was still attacking.

It was only now that Dark was able to come to his senses and act; he didn't want to hurt Krad anymore than he already had for fear that the one blow might be fatal to the battle-damaged blonde.. So he did the logical thing: he kneed him, hard, in the groin. While Krad was recoiling from the blow, Dark rolled from under Krad and pinned him to the ground. Each was breathing heavily; with Dark straddling Krad, sitting on his stomach and trying to avoid applying pressure to any serious injuries. "Calm down, you damn maniac. You can either _calm_ down, or I swear to God, I'll drag you to the capital and the king _himself_ will see that you get proper judgment. Now," he moved his head closer to Krad's; their noses were nearly touching. "…You want to tell me what the _hell_ that was all about?"

"Get off," Krad hissed. "Get off and get _away_ from me!"

"Hey! I'm in charge here, and you will _listen_ to _me_. Not the other way around! What the hell is your problem?"

"_You_! I hate you!"

Dark ignored the stinging pain his heart felt while his mind reasoned that something was just _wrong_ here. "You hate me, yet you don't know me?"

"You stole it! Give it back!"

It took a moment to process, but Dark was suddenly hit with an idea. "The cross?"

"Yes, my cross! Give it back."

"Ah, ah. We made a deal, pretty boy. I said I'd give it back if you'd answer my questions."

"…Give it back, first, and then I'll answer the questions."

"If you're lying, I'm going to cut off a finger," Dark bluffed—quite efficiently.

"I'm not a liar and I never have been. Now, let me up!"

"Do I need to bind your hands? You're quitea wild thing. Fiesty as ever."

"What's that supposed to mean?" the blonde asked callously, wriggling just a slight bit beaneath the male as he tried to wedge himself from out beneath the male straddling him.

"Oh, you don't remember our romps in the bedroom? I remember." There was a smile in his voice as he watched Krad's face contort into a mixure of rage and embarrassment. "Don't flatter yourself," he snapped back. "I'd never be with something so _vile_ as you!"

"Is that so?" Dark taunted. "Because I'll have you know that I remember every _fine_ curve of that little ass of yours."

Krad was sputtering a mixture of nonsense when Dark slowly started to remove himself. "You're going to go sit yourself on the bed and not move while I light up some candles. If you so much as move, I will not hesitate to drag you to the nearest prison holding cell. And don't even think about trying to attack me. You're as weak as anything and we both know it, so why don't you just accept this offering of kindness I'm showing you and be a good boy. For once. And don't pull any of that sly, smart shit you always did back home. Be a good boy and keep your hands in your lap, answer my questions, and I'll give you the cross back. Do you _promise_ to do that?"

"Fine, _fine_, just get off!"

Dark moved, then, pleased when Krad lay catching his breath for a few long seconds as he walked around the room seeking a candle and something to light it with. He took more time than necessary to locate such if only because he was watching Krad's form out of the corner of his eye. Almost genuinely pleased when Krad drew himself up and set himself on the bed, he only then lit up the first candle; more followed after that and were lit up around the room.

"You hungry?" he inquired as he moved to his pack and drew out the ornate golden cross. When he turned and let Krad see it for the first time, the male's eyes were locked onto it.

"No, I'm fine."

"Suit yourself," Dark said; he walked over and handed the cross to the other, surprised at how tenderly Krad held it in each calloused hand. "…You know, big black knight, one has to wonder, what the hell are you doing with a cross like that? You don't strike me as the religious sort."

"I'm not," Krad said, seeming calmer, now, yet still having the arrogant, superior, biting tone. "It's just something dear to me."

"Oh, yeah? Where'd you get it from?" Dark asked; he took a seat on the bed parallel to Krad and watched him with great curiosity. His astute gaze allowed him to notice the cold golden eyes that shot up to meet his own, gentler eyes.

"None of your business."

"You promised to answer all of my questions," Dark reminded, leaning back in a cocky manner as if to show how at ease—and in control of the situation—he was.

Krad opened his mouth, closed it, and seemed angry when he didn't have an answer.

"Time's running out. I'm losing my patience. Either tell me now or we'll leave first thing in the morning."

He watched as Krad's eyes drifted to the ground and then slowly back up to Dark. He'd lost the hostile expression and it had been replaced with a sort of lost one. He didn't have to answer; Dark might have been a screwball but he could read people better than most.

"You don't know where you got it from, do you?"

Krad had some snippy, biting retort waiting on his tongue, though lost it as he stared into Dark's eyes. Finally, he admitted, "No. I don't."

"…And yet, it's still important to you?"

"Yes, all right? It is," he answered sharply. "Stop asking questions, there aren't any answers to these questions. You're just being stupid."

"Ah, ah. No, these questions have a point, Krad. I just haven't gotten there, yet."

"Well, move on."

"No, this is…it's nice to be in charge. I forgot how much I missed your face when you're angry."

"Would you stop acting like you know me? I'm in the dark, here, and this mind game has long since lost it's appeal."

"Ah, no, I'm still having fun with it. And you should give me a little more respect, Krad. I know you better than you think. And if anyone has a right to want you dead, it's me. So be nice, while you're at it."

Krad looked at him with a confused expression and shook his head, convinced he was dealing with someone who had simply lost his mind. Someone who had seen one too many battles and all the death and gore had just gotten to him. He held the golden cross gently in his hands, stroking it with his thumb. "You're so full of yourself."

"Well, we always did have that in common, didn't we?"

"Would you at least tell me who you are?"

Dark didn't instantly know how to introduce himself. He thought that once they'd have some wonderful, loving reunion, though all words of sweetness and forgiving faded. "I can't believe you don't remember me. I literally _can't_ believe it. I'd think you were an exact replica of my Krad if you didn't have that cross."

Krad groaned. "What is it about the cross? What is it about you? What does anything you're saying have to do with _anything_ else?"

"…Krad Hikari, my name is Dark Mousy. And the last time I saw you was when we were fifteen years old and I gave you that cross as a goodbye present."

Krad stared at the male—the completely earnest tone had caught his attention and the words were as interesting as the way in which they were spoken. He didn't have time to really mull over the words or ask any questions because Dark continued, amethyst eyes plastered on Krad's face, "You are the first and only person I have ever loved and when you and your father left to make a delivery one town over, you were supposed to be gone for two days, tops. A part of me died when he came back without you."

"…What?" Krad asked breathlessly; he was compelled to laugh at the insanity of it all. Still, there was something in Dark's eyes that withheld him from reaching for the dagger he'd snatched and hidden under his pillow and attack the male. "I've never met you before in my—"

"You're full of shit. We grew up together. I've got a whole town full of people that will recognize you on sight. I've got a full town of people that will back me up when I say we were best friends. I've got bartenders that will tell stories about how we snuck in and got drunk when we were fourteen. I've got school teachers who remember us skipping. I've got old women who remember us helping pull weeds in the garden, and pastors who remember finding us in the closet of the church, naked and in the throws of passion—"

Krad shook his head disbelievingly. "This is some sort of trick," he said, still maintaining the elaborate aura of some sort of royalty.

"No trick. And I don't care if I have to drag you back to Azumano in chains, I'm going to prove that you're _my_ Krad. Even if it's the last thing you ever think of, even if you only realize it as they're dropping the guillotine, you'll know you're my Krad."

This seemed to take Krad by surprise. "—Wait. If you love me, why on Earth would you let them kill me? Wouldn't it be your goal to protect me?" he tried to reason, wondering if there was some way he could worm his way into Dark's heart and come out on top of all this.

"Yeah," Dark said, seeming all too cool about the situation given that he was an emotional wreck on the inside, torn between extreme grief at the thought Krad could be such a God-awful murderer and extreme home that there must be some sort of misunderstanding. "But the truth is, you killed all of those people. You're still going to be tried for war crimes."

"Well, then what's the point of even bothering with you?" Krad sneered. "You've already got me set up for a death sentence. Obviously this is some sort of damned game to you. A little joke before the execution? A little game?"

"No!" Dark yelled, his voice rivaling the ongoing thunder; he was angry and furious at the statement. "No, damn it. I'm going to try my damndest to save you, so you'd better tell me every damn little detail you know so I can get you out of this shit hole you've dug for yourself!"

Harsh golden eyes were staring him down after the outburst, and Krad asked suspiciously, "You're a man full of paradoxes, Dark."

"And you've got ten years of mystery that I'm just _dying_ to hear about. If I can't make you remember right now, you better get started on explaining everything you _do_ remember?"

"And just what's in it for me?" Krad asked slowly.

His voice was bitter and he wore a harsh grin, "How about your neck?"

--

_And I'll cut off just in time to avoid giving you a proper explanation. But, on the bright side, said explanation will be forthcoming in the mostly-near future, if you can only hold out for that long. More updates will be coming soon. Thank you for reading, and I'll greatly appreciate any sorts of reviews. As always. Go figure. A review for me is like an update for you. And sometimes, the right review can encourage so very much. Thanks for your time and I hope you keep reading._


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